Raindrops: Drabbles
by Abigail-Nicole
Summary: A series of captured moments, including DG, HG, LJ, the Black sisters, evil!Ron, and more. Rating for violence.
1. Explain

**Drabble #1  
Explain**

"Why does the water change colors when you look at it?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"...how would I know?"

"Come on, Malfoy. I thought you knew everything."

"I do!"

"Then tell me."

"...because it reflects different-colored objects."

"But that doesn't answer my question."

"What are you talking about, Weasley?"

"That only answers the how. Why, Draco?"

"...I don't know. Why do you have red hair? why do we have to put on such a facade? Why can't I stop loving you and why do I love you? I don't know but I do. Some things can never be explained."

* * *

A/N: don't own characters. Inspired by Liebling's London:  
"...because, well. Why does the water change colors when you look at it?" 


	2. Miss the Sea

**Drabble #2  
Miss the Sea**

She knows she can't live like this forever.

He says she loves her and she can't believe. 

She thinks she lost a part of herself back there.

He tells her that she should stop crying.

She's not sure she's crying.

It's been a long time since she lost him.

He strokes her hair _like fire under his hands_ and she can't say anything.

"Why can't you get over him?" he asks. Pain, anguish, sorrow, love.

_The sea is the color of his eyes,_ she wants to say. _I can't love you like that._

But she only says, quietly: "I miss the the sea."

* * *

A/N: Inspired by _Colors_ under my favorites. D/G, G/H. 


	3. Pretend

**Drabble #3  
Pretend**

"Let's pretend."

"Play pretend? I knew you were immature, but are you five?"

"Come on, Draco. Don't tell me you never played pretend."

"I never played pretend."

"Liar. come on. Pretend I'm a princess and you have to be the knight to rescue me."

"I'm not the knightly type."

"You wouldn't rescue me from a dragon?"

"I'd rescue the dragon from you."

"Ha, very funny. Pretend like you at least would save me. Would you save me if I got captured in the war?"

"You wouldn't."

"In pretend."

"I wouldn't let you."

"Do I detect nobility?"

"...I'll pretend like I love you."

* * *

A/N: don't own characters. Fluff, angst? you decide.


	4. Weasel

**Drabble #4  
Weasel**

Ron sighed to himself and let his guard down, his back, normally slouched, straightening in a langorous stretch, then he collapsed against his chair, staring into the fire broodingly. Finally. It had taken them forever to go away. 

He made a face as Harry's troubles crossed his mind. Stupid teenage things, all of them, and he was tired of stupid teenage things, tired of all this pretending, tired of having to hide who he was and sick of this game. 

It was rather stupid of them, really, to believe that everything was _for_ or _against_ them in this war. War was the breeding ground of mistrust, and within mistrust was the key to breaking laws. Not that he was breaking laws--his business was much more subtle than that. A blockade-runner, and--he smiled wryly--a negotiator, of sorts. But mistrust made it so much easier. 

And this was the perfect job. Ron let his smile widen, his eyes narrowing and glinting in anticipation of the challenge, a look so uncharacteristic of him that his friends wouldn't know him. But he was not Ron any longer--he was the Weasel. Five years of scheming, five years of acting and skills and luck and sweating and breaks were all coming together, just as he had planned. It had been lucky breaks--for somethings he could not fake. He couldn't feign his chess playing, and he was _the best_ at chess. Now the game was real and thrilling and exciting. 

The queen was ready to strike, the players were in position, and checkmate would come quick and with much profit. 

Operation Weasel had begun.

* * *

A/N: Characters not mine. Sorry, reading too much WoT has made me suspicious of overly-innocent characters, and Ron is such a clueless character that I had to write this, just to get rid of my latent paranoia. 


	5. Home, Honey

**Drabble #5  
Home, Honey**

It took me a moment to realize I was staring up at her, and she noticed this and smiled wryly. "Had fun?" she asked acidly, and I missed the tone for the pounding in my head.

"What? Yeah," I said blearily, trying to sit up, but she pushed me back down, and I realized she was on her knees on the floor beside me. I blinked. "What time is it?"

"You're drunk," she said, sounding amused, and I caught the tone this time.

"What are you talking about? Lying on the floor is good for your spine," I protested weakly. She gave me a funny grin.

"Well, a bed is better. I'm going to try to lift you up; don't puke on me or I'll kill you. This is cashmere."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I said as she pulled me up, and felt bile rise in my throat. Lily quickly pushed me back down and sighed.

"I can't do this by myself. Maybe sleeping on the floor will teach you a lesson," she said absently as she sat down beside me.

"Highly unlikely," I said, closing my eyes, and she laughed. "Your laugh is pretty," I said automatically, opening my eyes to look at her. She leaned back on her elbows beside me, smiling and amused. A wisp of hair fell into her face and I reached up to put it behind her ears, but she shifted to one elbow and caught my hand.

"You're a terrible drinker," she said affectionately, and kissed my hand before lying it down. "But you're also cute when helpless."

I yawned and closed my eyes, hearing the tone more now than the words. "Mmm," I agreed, slipping into darkness. I heard her say something quietly, and felt her fingers in my hair, stroking my forehead as I slipped into sleep.

* * *

A/N: Characters not mine. L/J, cute. 


	6. Only the Strong

**Drabble #6  
Only the Strong**

She was quiet, her face pale, her eyes full of a terrible sadness that ripped at his heart. His hands shook and he clenched them, trying to make the shaking stop, but it wouldn't go away. 

"Only the strong survive," he muttered, his eyes bright with emotion. 

"Avada Kedavra," the voice said, and the words were so emotionless that it made Draco want to scream. She shouldn't be killed like this, he thought, not in this cold nothingness. She deserves better, if they're going to kill her why aren't they angry at her, how can they be so cold and kill someone like that? 

She was not shaking, and she turned her head a fraction of an inch. Her eyes met his and he realized the extent of her love for him. 

Then she crumpled to the floor, dead. 

"Only the strong survive," he muttered, and horrified, he realized he had been muttering it all along. He tried to stop but the words came back, his mantra, the life he had chosen. "Only the strong survive..."

* * *

A/N: Characters not mine. D/G. 


	7. Fear

**Drabble #7  
Fear**

She sits on the tombstones in her black woolen coat and thinks that there might be something different. 

She listens to the leaves, the wind, the trees, the water running, quietly guarding. The feel of the sun, the salt on the wind, the sing-song whispering of the leaves in the trees, shelving away golden summer. She watches the sky for her family stars until a ghost takes her hand to lead her home.

She slips quietly into the house, the huge house of black wood and cold silver candlesticks, and the heads from their stairway watch her, eye sockets glinting in the light. Ghostly faces at the doors, but she takes no notice. She isn't afraid of monsters.

She's not sure that she's afraid of anything.

_Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived in a family of monsters_

* * *

A/N: Characters not mine. First in the Black Sisters trilogy: Andromeda. I don't know exactly _what_ I was trying to say here, but I said it quite well, don't you think?


	8. Blood

**Drabble #9  
Blood**

She was queasy, as a child.

Now she is not.

She is steel clothed thinly with silk and velvets, her soul transformed into bloodstained-iron by the black fires of life around her, and she cares for nothing because all she cared for is long gone away.

She wonders, sometimes, on days when the sun shines and she watches it through the French doors, wonders where the child went, where her innocence was gone to. Now, she stands in the doorway with a wet cloth and a cold heart, watching. Waiting.

And patiently, silently, she scrubs at Lucius's clothes and skin until the blood and bits of flesh come off, floating away in her soapy bucket and tainting the surface with vivid stains of red. 

_--the blood is pretty, swirling, red, until there are bits of flesh along with it that stick to your skin and suck out your life--_

* * *

A/N: Characters not mine. Second in the Black Sisters trilogy: Narcissa. _This_ brought the rating up to an R.


	9. Something Wicked

**Drabble #9  
Something Wicked**

She listens to the screams of the clouds that spin around the moon, and wonders if they know him like she did. 

She lies on the grass in her black silk with her black hair falling around her, a halo that heralds the demon she is, and she watches his star, flickering fitfully through its smothering black sky prison. And she remembers, _through the veil_ of time, remembers Black children with black souls that never really believed in good.

But the darkness screams to her soul while stars whisper in her bones.

And they are both lost.

_Something wicked this way comes…_

* * *

A/N: don't own characters. Third in the Black Sisters trilogy: Bellatrix, thinking on Sirius, if you couldn't tell. For the Blackaholics and the PoA movie. I can't wait! 


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